


Silent Hope

by Tarlan



Series: Silent World [16]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-19
Updated: 2003-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:35:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Trial</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Hope

Chris sipped at the hot brew, his eyes smiling over the rim of the coffee cup at the man seated opposite. It had been almost two weeks since the showdown with Dicky O'Shea, and two weeks since he recovered both his libido and his lover. For once his world was not full of dark shadows and he had spent these past weeks basking in the glow of friendship and in the security of Vin's affection as they worked together on rebuilding the damaged shack.

Everything seemed to be going his way for a change, and he refused to allow any bad thoughts to voice themselves for fear of souring what he had regained. Instead, he concentrated on the days and nights that had followed their return from leading the Wagon Train. He knew he had Nathan to thank -- in part -- for his well being, knowing that Nathan's herbs had given him a medicinal respite, and had brought him back from the edge of despair. Though it was Vin who had brought him the rest of the way with his gentle caring and attention. Vin had held him through those first long nights, letting him know how much he was wanted -- though not so much in words... never with words.

Still, it had felt so good, and he grinned openly as he recalled the pleasure of waking up with Vin curled tightly around him this very morning. He sighed softly as the memory of those strong fingers playing over him came back, reigniting a slow burning fire that sent his blood racing to his groin.

He had no idea how long Vin had lain awake before he started with those torturous, slow strokes across his body, and he surfaced from a restful sleep into the hazy warmth of being made love to. His nerve endings tingled from the lightest caress across one nipple, his muscles quivering in anticipation as those fingers glided over his chest and belly, sliding lower in tantalizing strokes before wrapping around his burgeoning erection. Callused fingertips raised goosebumps of pleasure as Vin caressed the curve of his ass while those other fingers worked his aching flesh. One hand insinuated itself between their close-pressed bodies and Chris recalled his gasp of pleasurable shock as one agile thumb brushed across the hidden entrance to his body even as the other smeared the evidence of his arousal over the head of his engorged shaft.

He could barely recall his moans as Vin pushed a finger deep inside him, and Chris lowered his eyes and hid a grin as he remembered the wanton way he had writhed upon that finger, gasping every time it stroked across that special place inside. The rest was lost in a swirl of light and sensation as Vin brought him over the edge, only coming back to earth when he felt the bluntness of Vin's erection pressing inside him. Those strong fingers were gripping his hips, holding him firmly as Vin thrust over and over, deeper and deeper, until he choked out his own gasp of triumph, filling Chris with his hot seed...

Chris's thoughts came back to the present, and to the man seated opposite who had given him so much pleasure.

Damn, that was one hell of a way to wake up, he thought as he wondered how Vin could manage to be such a contortionist, playing his body so wonderfully. As he felt the heat of remembered satisfaction warming him from the inside out, Chris grinned again behind his coffee cup, unable to hide his pleasure even though he knew he ought to be more careful when they were in public. He wished they were still out at his shack because then he'd be able to do something about the warmth that was flooding into his groin.

When he looked back up, Vin's blue eyes twinkled back at him as he sipped at his own coffee. His full mouth twitched into a tiny smile that told volumes, as if Vin had shared the memory flashing across his mind, and as if he knew of the arousal that was constricting his already tight pants.

The batwing door to the saloon snapped back, pulling Chris's attention from the pressure at his groin to the new entrant, and he was surprised to see the boy from the Telegraph Office rushing in. Marty gazed around the dim interior for a moment until his eyes settled on Chris, and then he rushed forward with all the impatience and energy of youth.

"Mr. Larabee. My pa told me to give you this right away."

Chris set his cup down and accepted the folded paper. He read the message, and then sent Marty away without any answer, wanting the boy to be at the Telegraph Office should another message follow. Chris looked straight into Vin's eyes.

"It's a message from the Judge. He's in Eagle Bend. Get the boys together. We're riding."

They pushed back from their shared table and strode out of the saloon side by side, with Chris heading straight towards the Telegraph Office, but he paused halfway there. Silently, he debated the wisdom of letting the Judge know they were on their way, unsure if he could trust the telegraph operator in Eagle Bend to withhold the news from the rest of the town.

The message only stated that the Judge was in Eagle Bend, nothing more, but Chris knew Travis would never bother sending him such a message unless he believed there was trouble brewing that he might not be able to deal with alone. It was part of an unspoken agreement between them; though one that Travis had not called upon before. Chris turned back and headed for the livery where he'd left his horse only an hour or so earlier, deciding it would be better to keep an element of surprise just in case there *was* trouble in Eagle Bend.

As he strode back towards the livery, Buck fell into step beside him, and Chris handed him the message.

"Sounds like the Judge may be in trouble."

"Sounds like it."

"We going to Eagle Bend?"

"Yep."

"I just spotted JD over by the jail."

"Then I'll meet you there. Should let Mary know where we're all headed."

Chris stepped up onto the boardwalk and entered the small printer's office to find Mary busily setting up the press ready to print part of tomorrow's newspaper in advance. Not being one for small-talk, he related the message quickly and then told her his intentions before walking out.

"Mr. Larabee?"

She bustled after him but he politely rebuffed her, touching the brim of his hat in respect. He knew she had plenty of questions, but those could not be answered until they returned for, now, she knew about as much as he did. By the time he reached the jail house, Vin and Buck were already mounted up and Chris's horse stood waiting for him, already saddled and with the cinch tightened. Chris nodded his thanks to Vin and was about to saddle up when he saw Marty come running up once more, so he waited, taking the second message from him. He read it quickly, and then he handed the new message to Buck before turning back to Marty.

"Gonna need you to tell your pa to send back a message... and let the Judge know we're on our way."

Chris accepted the message back from Buck and then turned to his horse. He gathered up the reins, placed his foot in the stirrup and his hand on the pommel but he turned slightly as Ezra stepped out from the jail house.

"What appears to be the trouble?"

With a smooth motion, Chris mounted up. "This boy just brought us a message from Judge Travis. He's over at Eagle Bend trying a colored man for murder."

"I guess they're a little too het up for a fair trial. Judge wants us to bring the prisoner back," Buck added, having read the shorthand contents of the second message and quickly deciphered its full meaning.

"All of us?"

"Yeah." Chris almost grinned when he saw a look of dismay pass across Ezra's face. He knew the idea of riding out held no charms for the dapper southerner, who hated getting his dandy clothes covered in trail dust. It almost made the thought of a hard day in the saddle more bearable.

"Must be somebody famous."

Chris glanced across at JD, aware that the younger man tended to recall the names of murderers and miscreants with surprising ease. But then, JD read the bounty notices with as much zeal as he consumed those dime store novels that Mrs. Potter bought in especially for him. He wondered if there had been a bounty poster out for the man, perhaps in the latest batch that arrived on the stage only a day or two ago. JD had already been through the pile of new ones, checking them against the stack they had at the jail house. For some reason he enjoyed sifting through the wanted posters, discarding old ones where the bounty had been lifted or raised, and disposing of the one that bore Vin's name and likeness. Chris gave a wry grin. There was no sense holding onto something damaging like that in case a bounty hunter should come to town and ask to check out the posters.

Chris opened up the small paper and read out the name just in case JD recognized it.

"Name's... uh... Obediah Jackson."

"Chris, let me see that."

Chris handed over the paper to Nathan, who had just arrived. Although Jackson was a fairly common name, Chris felt a sense of foreboding as he saw the deep frown lines forming on Nathan's expressive face. It seemed that Vin had sensed this too for he leaned over in his saddle, his sand-roughened voice filled with concern.

"What's wrong, Nathan? He somebody you know?"

"He's my father."

Chris exchanged a look with Vin as they waited for Ezra to mount up. His father? With some concern, he realized that he knew very little about Nathan's past beyond the fact that he'd been born a slave on a plantation in the Deep South. He knew Nathan had been whipped badly at some time, and that his one-time master had taught how to handle a knife and a sword. And he knew Nathan had escaped to the North and helped carry the wounded for the battlefield during the war. He frowned, recalling the quiet talk they'd had a few weeks back, when Nathan had told him about some of the harsh realities of being of slave, of having your friends and family sold away at another man's whim, never to be seen again. Nathan had said it had happened to him but that it didn't matter none, so Chris assumed that it had been some boyhood friend he'd lost. But what if it had been family, a brother or sister, or maybe even his father? He swallowed hard and looked away, hating the possibility that he'd been so wrapped up in his own problems and heartache that he'd overlooked those of a friend.

Suddenly, there was no more time left to ponder over this as, with a shout, they were on their way out of town and heading for Eagle Bend. However, Chris had a feeling he would be learning a lot more about Nathan Jackson by the time this was all over.

****

Normally, a ride to Eagle Bend could take the best part of a day at a walking pace, but they didn't have the time to take in the scenery so they rode hard, wanting to reach Eagle Bend in just a few hours. It was a hard ride, jarring on the back as they traveled partly along the well-worn tracks but then angled off, taking shortcuts where Vin felt they'd be of any use to a group of riders.

Beneath him, he could feel his horse starting to labor under the constant demand so he was relieved when they crowned the last rolling hill separating them from the town. Vin knew this country pretty well by now, had ridden it many times when he needed to get away from the town they protected and all the people congested there. Plus it made sense to know what lay in all directions just in case he had to make a run for it one of these days to avoid being taken in for the bounty on his head.

"How much farther to Eagle Bend?"

Vin smiled as he answered Nathan's question, hearing the frustration in the man's voice. He could see an echo of that question written across a few faces.

"Town's just over that rise."

Vin gave silent acknowledgment to Chris as he heard the soft voice asking him to take a look before they rode any closer, knowing it made sense to check out the lay of the land before they went riding into Eagle Bend. He dropped from his horse and pulled out the spyglass, feeling the presence of another body alongside him but knowing, instinctively, that it was Nathan rather than his lover.

Thoughts of Chris made him wonder how Chris was coping with being back near Eagle Bend again, knowing the ties the place had with the deaths of Sarah and Adam, and how its Sheriff had been a hindrance rather than a help when Chris went looking for their killer. He recalled the barely concealed animosity between Chris and Sheriff Stains during the days they had spent there hunting down Cletus Fowler, and Stains was still holding Chris accountable for the Livery burning down. However, despite an early attempt, no one could prove it had been Chris rather than the dead Fowler who had set the Livery on fire, especially as Fowler had a reputation among his men for liking to see things -- and people -- burn. Even though they found enough money among Fowler's possessions, and from the sale of that big grey Fowler rode, to pay for most of the damage, it didn't stop Stains from holding Chris responsible.

Vin turned his thoughts away from Stains and looked through the spyglass. He frowned at the scene being played out below, realizing that they had arrived none too soon for he could see the angry gestures of a mob set on becoming a lynching party. He scanned the buildings and saw Judge Travis being held tight between two burly men, but he didn't need to be able to lip-read to know what Travis was saying to the men around him as he struggled against his captors.

"Looks like a hanging party."

"Let me see."

Vin handed the spyglass over to Nathan and directed his sight to the right of the water tower where the men were manhandling a colored man though the crowd towards a waiting mule. Another man was carrying a rope with a noose already prepared.

"That's my father."

Vin grabbed hold of Nathan's arm, deciding to be the voice of reason. "Now, hold on, Nathan. No sense riding into a lynch mob without a plan. Let's do this together. Come on."

By the time he'd related what he'd seen, Chris had come up with one half of a damn good plan. All they needed was a diversion and Vin had already figured that part out after his thoughts of Chris had made him glance towards the Livery. The seven men rode swiftly towards the town, knowing that every second counted, each taking their designated place though Vin was pleased that, for once, Chris let Buck be the one to go sneaking through the crowd ready to grab Nathan's father. It made far better sense as Chris had an aura about him that intimidated others even when he wasn't trying to *be* intimidating. In contrast, Buck seemed to fit right in, blending into the angry swell of cowboys and 'upright' citizens with apparent ease.

Vin glanced across at Chris as they rode to the corral, waiting for a signal that Buck had made it through the crowd, and he was amazed to see a mischievous grin on his lover's face. He had to admit that Chris had been almost unbelievably happy these past two weeks with a ready smile and a look of peace in his eye that had been missing for many months.

Though he'd liked to have put it all down to the special blend of loving he'd shared with Chris since their confrontation a few days after dealing with Dicky O'Shea, he knew it also had to do with the herbs that Nathan had supplied to Chris. Whatever was in that stuff tasted vile but Vin couldn't deny how relaxed Chris had become over these last few weeks. His only fear was that those herbs would prove to be as addictive as opium, morphine, laudanum or the whiskey that took away a man's reasoning if he let himself wallow in the fiery liquid. Only time would tell... though he doubted Nathan would have given anything to Chris that might prove harmful in the long run. Still, Vin had already laid plans to slowly wean Chris off the herbs -- just in case.

He took a long look at the newly built livery, sighing in remembrance of seeing it burn as it had claimed the life of the one man who might have laid Chris's ghosts to rest. However, Fowler deserved the death he'd chosen, walking into the fire rather than waiting for the Judge to place a noose around his neck, though Vin believed Fowler was probably still burning now -- in Josiah's hell. He eyed the horses milling about in the corral, noticing how many there were for such a small town, and decided that word of a possible hanging must have spread and brought the ghouls flocking in to see the spectacle.

His hand rubbed his neck in an uncomfortable gesture as he thought of the fate that might be lying in wait for him one of these days. He'd already come too close for comfort when Eli Joe made to string him up that time, his eyes automatically darting to the man who'd saved his life that day. He could still see the noose coming towards him, and see the sadistic glint in the psychotic Eli Joe's eyes. Only the knowledge that Chris was watching and waiting had stilled the rising panic as his hat was knocked back from his head...

He swept the memory aside as Buck gave the signal that he was ready, spurring everyone into action.

Chris shoved open the gate and, with a yell, Vin stampeded the herd of horses through the center of the town, quickly dispersing the angry mob. In the meantime, Buck knocked out the guard holding onto the mule that they had placed Obediah Jackson upon to facilitate his hanging. He leapt up behind Obediah, grabbing the reins and sending the mule racing into the mass of stampeding horses. As they raced through the town, Vin glanced over in time to see the Judge released by Josiah and Ezra, who then manhandled Travis to the three horses that stood waiting. Vin could see Chris on the other side of the main street, gun in hand, while the horses flowed between them.

"I know who you seven sons of bitches are! You're not going to get away with this!"

Stains screamed out his fury, but the seven were all riding hard from the town with Obediah and the Judge. JD quickly brought alongside Buck's grey so Buck could jump across without them having to slow down, and they kept up the pace until Vin decided it was safe to rein back, bringing them slowly to a halt. He saw Nathan jump down immediately and drop to his father's side, feeling a little self-conscious as he watched what should have been a private reunion between father and son.

"I went looking for you after the war. Daddy, where'd you go?"

Vin half-listened to the exchange before turning his attention to Chris when he asked the Judge to explain what had been going on in Eagle Bend.

"A white man was found beaten to death. He had an altercation with Mr. Jackson in front of witnesses. After they found the body, they stopped Mr. Jackson as he was riding out of town. When I realized how angry they were, I decided to move the trial. That's why I sent for you." Travis sighed. "Then they decided to lynch my defendant."

On hearing all this, Nathan wanted to take his father and run as far away as possible, convinced that a Negro would never get a fair trial among white men but Travis stayed firm.

The Judge promised Nathan that his father would get a fair trial, and Vin pondered on the luck that had placed Travis in the town when the murder took place. He must have seen right away that there was no hope of Obediah Jackson getting that fair trial in Eagle Bend, least not while it had a sheriff like Stains to fan the fires rather than protect his prisoners.

"Yeah? With all due respect, Judge, how many Negroes going to be on that jury?"

"That's enough, Nathan. Ain't nothing more important to me than being a free man. And there's one thing every free man gets in America... and that's his day in court. I want mine."

Vin could see, immediately, that Obediah's words were the only thing stopping Nathan from following through on his first thought, to get across the border into the relative safety of Mexico with his father. He wondered, for a moment, what would have happened if Obediah had not spoken up. Would the Judge have ordered them to stop Nathan? Would any of them have done so?

As he reflected on this he realized that he was damn grateful that it wouldn't come to that as, though he held a lot of respect for Travis, he had even more for Nathan. There could only be one choice for him, and he was already a marked man so it made no great difference if he had to run with Nathan. But would Chris have gone with them?

Vin watched as Nathan drew his father away, and he couldn't help reflecting on Obediah's faith in the justice system. For himself, he knew Travis would give him a fair trial for the murder of Jess Kincaid, but the burden would be on him to provide proof that he didn't do it, and without witnesses it would be the word of the people of Tascosa's against his. Although he knew the Judge thought highly of him, Travis was a man of principle and he would be forced to see justice served even though he might believe Vin was innocent. And there was only one accepted punishment for a murderer in this territory -- hanging by the neck until dead.

Vin didn't want to die... at least not that way. He'd rather take a bullet if he could choose how he met an early death. He sighed as he recalled one of those quiet talks with Chris one morning after they'd lain together. He'd made Chris promise to shoot him before he'd allow anyone to hang him. He didn't want to dangle at the end of a rope like some no-good desperado. If anything, he wanted to be afforded a little dignity when he died, to die as befitting a Tanner, preferably with a gun in his hand and a just cause in his heart.

Chris called a halt to their small respite and soon they were riding again, taking the harder but faster trail between the two towns. They reached the town around mid-afternoon, wearily dropping their tired frames from equally tired horses, and Vin was grateful that nothing untoward had happened during their short absence. None of them had the energy to deal with anything more today, least not until they'd got some decent food and a whiskey or two inside them. He watched as Nathan escorted his father to the jail, and then Vin joined Chris and the Judge on the boardwalk outside of the saloon.

Vin was not sure how long they stood around staring out across the town, a whiskey in hand, as each man wound down from the events of the day... but Vin couldn't help but wish this day over. He wanted to find some good reason to get Chris alone so he could carry on from where he left off this morning. Vin gave a sly grin as he recalled the way Chris had moaned in satisfaction, the cramp in his hand more than worth it as he brought his lover over the edge before slaking his own pleasure within the willing body. And afterwards they had curled up together, his chest pressed tight against his lover's back, his hands worshiping Chris's sweat-soaked flesh, knowing that no words were needed to describe the way they felt right then.

He took a final swallow of his whiskey and set the shot glass down behind him next to Chris's where Inez would retrieve it later. The afternoon shadows had started to creep across the dusty ground of the main street, slowly chasing away the light, though there were still a fair few hours of daylight remaining until nightfall... and then Vin found a new direction for his thoughts as a man stepped up beside them.

"Afternoon, Gentlemen. I'm James Lightfoot."

"Where the blazes did you come from?"

Vin saw the shocked and annoyed expression on the Judge's face, and he could understand the reason. None of them had expected anyone from Eagle Bend to arrive here before morning but Lightfoot had lived up to his name, taking barely an hour more to travel between the two towns. Vin had already taken a dislike to the man before he'd even opened his mouth, and the sly, honeyed words did little to change his mind. The man was a snake, and Vin wished he could do to Lightfoot what he'd do to any rattler that crossed his path -- blow its head off. He growled softly under his breath. There were times when having a conscience could be a real pain.

"Every man in this territory has a right to a fair trial."

"I couldn't agree more, your Honor. Which is why I have been retained by the good people of Eagle Bend to prosecute this crime."

"Hell you will." Vin growled out his response, not wanting this man anywhere near the town let alone in a courtroom with Nathan's father. The man barely spared Vin a glance as he put his case to the Judge, and yet Vin could feel the disdain pouring from Lightfoot as he was sized up and found wanting in the lawyer's eyes.

"It's their right." Travis sighed in resignation as Lightfoot went on with more of his demands but Vin had turned his attention to Chris, seeing a twitch in his lover's jaw that told him Chris had also sensed Lightfoot's disdain -- and wasn't happy about it.

"My strong advice, sir, would be to appoint some of them to the jury. It would be not only prudent, but fair."

Vin straightened, and when he spoke his voice was full of disbelief. "Fair? They was going to hang that man without a trial."

Despite Vin's protestations, the Judge conceded to Lightfoot's demands even though they were, as the Travis said, unorthodox. Vin shook his head almost imperceptibly as Lightfoot sneered in triumph, wondering if Obediah's fair trial was slowly being eroded away and wishing he could wipe that smile from the lawyer's face. Chris must have had a similar thought and Vin had the pleasure of seeing Lightfoot's superior demeanor crack as Chris stepped towards him with a grin that was at total odds to the menacing glint in his green eyes.

"You can also tell the sheriff we're on the job here. He'll understand."

Lightfoot backed up a pace, swallowing hard as he fought to stand his ground but Vin could see that every muscle in the snake was crackling with a desire to turn and flee.

"That he will, gentlemen. That he will. Good day."

Vin noticed the merriment in the Judge's eye as Lightfoot backed away from a confrontation with Chris. It was a small victory that would be meaningless in the long run but a welcome one nonetheless. With a deep sigh, Vin tipped his hat to the Judge, catching Chris's eye as he walked away. He knew Chris wanted to have a few private words with the Judge about the upcoming trial and then he'd be taking over for spell at the jailhouse. But after that they'd both be free to do what they wanted until morning, and Vin had plans for how he was going to spend that time with Chris. He strode off towards his wagon, eager to start his preparations for the coming night.

****

"How's he holding up?"

Nathan looked back at Chris, and Chris saw the startlement in the dark eyes, knowing that Nathan's thoughts had been so far away that he hadn't noticed him sitting outside the jail house. He watched as Nathan took a deep sigh before stepping over towards him.

"Same as he always was. They want to lock him up, he said, _yes, sir, lock me up_. They want to put him on trial, let everybody laugh at him, he said, _yes, sir, put me on trial_. Probably help tie the noose if they ask him to."

Chris frowned at Nathan's condescending words, not understanding where all the frustration and anger was coming from having seen the joyous reunion earlier. If his own father had greeted him with the same love shining in his eyes as Obediah had for *his* son, then Chris would have considered himself the luckiest man on earth. Instead, Nathan seemed to be belittling his father for being willing to place his trust in Judge Travis and the justice system.

"He's your father. What's the matter with you?"

Chris wasn't sure what he had expected to hear when he chastised Nathan, but Nathan took a seat beside him and spoke solemnly.

"When I was about seven years old, our owners decided to sell him and us kids away from our mother. Put us on a wagon, and we ended up going to Alabama. She stayed behind in Georgia. Then after a while, he told me that she died. Now, I was just a little boy at the time, but all that time I waited for him to find a way to keep our mother with us... or us with her. But he never said one word. He didn't do anything. He didn't argue... he didn't even beg. He didn't put up one damn ounce of fight to keep our family together."

Chris lowered his head, embarrassed at his earlier rough words towards this gentle person. If it were true, that Obediah had made no attempt to stop their family being torn apart, then Nathan had every right to feel frustrated with him. Even though Chris doubted it would have changed the outcome, at least Nathan would have grown up knowing that his father had done everything within his power to keep his children with their mother. And yet, he wondered if that single event had been the catalyst that set Nathan on the road to becoming a free man. If life had been relatively good for him as a slave then maybe he would not have been so driven to escape those who proclaimed themselves to be his masters. But life hadn't been so good for Nathan as a slave, and the lash scars on his back were a testament to that.

His thoughts came full circle and, once more, he recalled the night when Nathan had told him how slave families were sometimes torn apart at the whims of the owners, and he felt ashamed now that he knew Nathan had been referring to the way he had lost his mother. At the time Chris had been too caught up in his own turbulent thoughts and feelings to see beyond those words to the pain Nathan hid beneath, but now Nathan's scars were raw and bleeding once more.

"Sorry."

"He should have done something."

When Nathan looked him back in the eye, Chris hoped that the Healer would recognize that he was apologizing for more than just his harsh words of only moments before. He hoped Nathan would also see the apology for not recognizing his pain two weeks earlier. The dark eyes softened and Chris gave a small smile as a large hand slapped him on the shoulder before Nathan stepped away. He turned on the edge of the boardwalk.

"I know you are, Chris. Now I need to go see the Judge about a fair trial."

Chris nodded, acknowledging the silent hope reflecting in the dark eyes with reassurance of his own. He knew Travis was a good man; a man of integrity and principle -- a man who would do everything within his power to ensure that every person brought before him was given the opportunity to defend themselves in court. But even he had to accept that the Judge could only work on the evidence submitted to him, and that if it came down to Obediah's word against the people of Eagle Bend, then all hope might be lost.

When Ezra arrived soon after to check up on his mother, Chris took advantage of his presence to escape jail duty and he sauntered over to the saloon where Buck, JD and Josiah were already seated outside drinking coffee. He gave a soft laugh when he saw Buck and JD were bickering as usual, and he wondered how Josiah managed to read with those two making such a noise right beside him. Buck called a halt to the heated discussion when he saw Chris approaching.

"Hey, Pard. You stopping by for coffee... or something stronger?"

Chris grinned and went inside, returning moments later with a large cup filled to the brim with Inez's special brew. He took a seat close to the edge of the boardwalk and sipped at the hot coffee, another smile forming as Vin walked up and stood right behind him. Chris could smell the buckskin and the raw, masculine scent of the man, his blood pooling in his groin at his lover's closeness but, even without the sense of smell, Chris figured he would have known it was Vin by some uncanny sixth sense. Silently, he wondered if Vin knew him the same way, reacting to his presence on the same subliminal level.

So deep was he in his thoughts of Vin that he didn't pay that much attention to Nathan's arrival until he heard Nathan call his name.

"What?"

"Ah, hell, Nathan, you know Chris don't say more than three words in a day."

Chris bowed his head to hide his grin, recognizing the playful tone in Vin's voice as if Vin had known he had been distracted by carnal thoughts. Whatever Nathan had asked, Vin had managed to deflect the problem away from him and, moments later, it all made sense when Ezra spoke up from beside Nathan.

"My apologies, Nathan, but I've... legal issues of my own to deal with."

Chris gave a sigh of relief, not because he didn't trust Ezra to represent Obediah, but because Vin had saved him from having to say _no_ to Nathan. It was not that he didn't want to help Nathan and his father, but he was a man of few words. He preferred to be direct rather than playing with words in the hope of trapping someone into saying the wrong thing at the right time, or the right thing at the wrong time. Moreover, he hadn't the patience to deal with people like Lightfoot who parried with words for a living. It was a task far more suited to Ezra or Josiah.

"That's all right, Ezra. I wasn't really thinking about asking you."

Chris saw the look on Ezra's face and wished Nathan had been a little less distracted by his own problems and had chosen his words more carefully. He knew Nathan hadn't meant to be offhand to Ezra, and that Nathan had recognized that Ezra had his mother to deal with... and, Lord knows, Maude Standish could be one hell of a problem to deal with even on a good day. However, Ezra was a lot more sensitive than people gave him credit for, hiding his hurts behind that poker mask.

"What you need is an honest, well-spoken, handsome man for this job."

Chris snorted softly as Buck preened in front of them, openly grinning when JD shot Buck down with his rejoinder.

"Fine. I'll do it."

"JD, ain't nobody going to listen to a youngster like you."

"Oh, Buck, you see a pretty girl in that courtroom, you're going to be..." JD growled as he mimicked Buck's animal magnetism. Behind him, Chris heard Vin chuckle softly, but Vin almost choked on that laugh when Buck spoke up again.

"I was thinking about Vin."

Chris turned in his seat to where Vin was leaning against the upright, his face alight with mischief as he wondered how Vin was going to get out of this without hurting Nathan's feelings. But he knew Vin would rather face down a tribe of enraged Kiowas than stand up in front of a roomful of people, finding the shyness an endearing quality in the, otherwise, headstrong and courageous man.

"I... I get too nervous in front of a crowd." Vin looked across the boardwalk. "What about Josiah? He studied Cherokee law. That should count for something."

Chris narrowed his eyes, still looking up at Vin as he revealed this surprising piece of information about Josiah Sanchez. None of the seven were particularly inclined to air their private lives to the others, sharing details only when the occasion arose, as with Nathan only a short while ago. Silently, Chris wondered how this specific piece of information had come up between Vin and Josiah.

"And he's got a suit."

JD's remark seemed to be the clincher as Chris recalled the suit Josiah had bought from Mrs. Potter all those months ago to go courting Emma Dubonnet. It was a shame that Ms. Dubonnet turned out to be no better than a two-bit whore. That suit had not seen the light of day since the night Josiah discovered the truth when he went racing into Guy Royal's ranch house, all liquored-up, intending to save her dubious virtue. However, Chris knew that there was more to Josiah being the right choice than his knowledge of Cherokee Law and his possession of a decent suit. Josiah was the preacher among them, able to manipulate people through words with even more grace than Ezra -- when he was of a mind. Chris watched Nathan approach the large man, wondering if Josiah had been paying any attention to this conversation, or whether he was completely engrossed with the words in his Bible.

"Josiah? Would you do this for me?"

"Nathan. I'd be honored."

Chris smiled, his silent question answered as Josiah accepted Nathan's request without asking for any of the details. Josiah placed his battered Bible into his pocket and stood up, and Chris watched as he walked slowly, but purposefully, towards the jail house with Nathan by his side. They parted just outside, with Nathan accepting that Josiah needed to speak to his father alone.

With one last swallow, Chris drained the coffee from the cup and set it down close by. If Lightfoot was right then they could expect people from Eagle Bend to start drifting into town from late-morning, and the Judge had deferred to Lightfoot in setting the trial to start at noon. Depending on how long the trial took, there was every chance that most of those people would be settling in the town over night, so Chris could see it becoming more than a little lively tomorrow. It made sense to grab what rest and decent sleep they could tonight -- just in case. Nathan had already opted to take the night shift at the jail, and Chris could understand his reasoning. If things went badly for Obediah Jackson then Nathan might not have much time left to spend with his father.

Chris considered how he was going to spend his evening, grinning slyly when he felt Vin shifting behind him. He waited until Vin sat down beside him and then glanced across, catching his eye and making his desires known. Vin answered with the barest flicker of his dark eyelashes, but it was enough to have Chris wishing for an end to this day so he could have Vin all to himself once again.

While Buck and JD went back to bickering about women and horses, Chris considered all the options open to him and Vin for tonight -- and discovered that they had very few. Riding out to his shack with Vin for just a single night would be out of the question as too many people would start wondering why they were spending so much time there alone together. And it would not be safe playing around together in the town, especially while the Judge and that snake, Lightfoot, were staying at the same boarding house as him.

He grinned at the obvious solution.

The weather was clement at this time of year, and it had been quite a while since they'd spent an evening lying in each other's arms under a canopy of bright stars. His grin widened at the romantic notion. All he had to do now was find the right moment to pass along this idea to Vin without them being overheard -- and that opportunity came just a short while later when JD played a quick joke on Buck and went racing off with Buck hard on his heels.

However, within seconds he realized that Vin had already figured it all out -- and was just waiting for the close of the day.

****

The rest of the day passed slowly -- too slowly for Vin, who was eagerly anticipating having his lover in his arms this night. He made sure he had everything he needed in his saddlebags, and an extra blanket rolled up behind the saddle. As always, no one seemed too curious when he mentioned that he and Chris were riding out for a few hours, assuming that they were patrolling the outlying reaches of the town.

He hid his grin of pleasure when Chris rode up, seeing the extra blanket tied on behind Chris's saddle. The sun was close to the horizon as they rode slowly from the town, and Vin silently wished that they could dig in their heels and race against the swiftly closing day. He had already planned where they would stop and he didn't want to waste a single minute of these precious few hours getting there.

Vin hung back as they climbed the last hill, his heart skipping a beat in wonder as he saw his lover silhouetted against the fiery backdrop of the setting sun as he crowned the hill. For one long moment that seemed almost suspended in time, the black of Chris's clothing cast him in dark relief against the red and orange ball. And then Chris was gone, heading down the slope as they took trail towards Vin's favorite hiding place on a wide ledge just beneath the top of the bluff. They left the horses in a small copse, tied to one of the scraggly trees, and made their way down the wide path on foot, carrying their blankets and saddlebags.

The ledge was little more than fifteen feet deep, easing back beneath a slight overhang that added even more privacy to the secluded spot. Vin came to this place often; enjoying the solitude when alone, and the quiet companionship when Chris was with him. He gathered up the wood that he'd stacked in a pile ready for occasions like this one and, within minutes, small flames were licking the night air as they radiated their meager light and warmth into the darkness.

Chris spread his bedroll over the dusty ground, and then spread out Vin's beside it, and when he finished, Vin could feel the heat from the desire-filled eyes burning into his back. He turned and grinned before flipping his slouch hat from his head and shaking loose his hair like it was a horse's mane. White teeth glinted from the wide grin he gained in response, and he watched as Chris tossed aside his own flat-brim hat, enjoying the way the orange and yellow of the fire's light set aflame the blond hair, turning the pale strands to molten gold. Star and firelight vied for supremacy upon the pale face, reflecting back from the bottomless pools of desire-darkened eyes.

 _So damn beautiful, Larabee_ , he thought as he kicked off his boots, and then he eased out of his shirt and pants. Chris wasted no time in stripping too, both of them eager to cast aside any physical barriers between them and lay together, wrapped in strong arms.

Chris stood for a moment, bathed in the starlight that reflected from his pale skin. His blood-engorged shaft stood proud against the ivory flesh of his well-muscled belly, jutting from a bed of golden curls turned silver beneath the glint of starlight.

Vin stepped into Chris's embrace, eager to taste the flesh that he had feasted his eyes upon only moments before. He kissed the base of the strong throat, feeling the quickened pulse of desire, and the soft reverberation as Chris moaned his pleasure. His hands glided over warm flesh from shoulder blade to the small of Chris's back before drifting down to cup the swell of firm ass cheeks. Vin sighed in delight as Chris mirrored his hands, pulling their hips together, their hardened erections bumping and sliding, sending delicious sensations spiraling through his body. With head tilted back, Chris freely offered his throat to more of Vin's caresses, his hands kneading Vin's ass cheeks in rhythm to the gentle sucking upon his throat.

Although he could never tire of the sweet throat, he wanted to taste far more. With gentle encouragement, he eased Chris to their makeshift bed, straddling the lean figure on hands and knees, and staring down into the lust-darkened eyes. He leaned over and licked one desire-tightened nipple, exalting in the gasp of pleasure that escaped the parted lips, then gasped his own satisfaction as his own sensitive bud was assaulted between Chris's thumb and forefinger.

Beads of perspiration were glistening on the almost hairless chest, and he saw droplets of his own sweat fall, splattering upon the naked skin and intermingling with Chris's sweat. The heady scent of their sweat mixed with the pungency of their arousal sent Vin's senses flying, overpowering every thought except for the primeval one that wanted to claim the body lying beneath his. His fingers, normally so steady, trembled as they scooped some grease from the tin lying open nearby. To his surprise, Chris turned onto his belly and then pushed up onto hands and knees, raising his ass to rub against Vin's hardened flesh. Vin groaned as fresh sensations rocked him, his grease-slicked fingers pushing deep inside the readily offered body, preparing Chris for more. He felt the strong muscle loosen, and he pressed against the opening, pushing forward slowly but firmly until half of his hardened shaft had penetrated the hot, tight channel. His fingers wrapped around sharp hipbones and with a deep sigh of ultimate pleasure, he thrust all the way in, burying himself to the hilt within the hot flesh.

"Goddammit, Chris, so good, so damn good" he moaned, the profanities falling from his lips as a litany as he thrust in and out, over and over. Without conscious thought, one hand snaked beneath his lover's body, grasping the hard shaft and pumping the flesh in unison to his own powerful thrusts inside the beautiful body. Lights began to dance before his eyes; sparkling jewels of white flashes against the velvet darkness of the night. He felt the hot channel tighten around him, the strong back arching downwards as Chris threw back his head and howled his climax into the still night air. Hot liquid bathed his hard-working fingers and then his own howl of satisfaction echoed around them as he found his release within the tight body.

When his spiraling senses slowed he found he was lying on his side with his body wrapped around his lover. He could feel the stickiness of his spent seed oozing between them even though his softening shaft was still held within its human sheath. His fingers were coated in Chris's spent seed, and he brought that hand to his lips, delicately licking at the sticky fluid as he sought to taste every part of this man that he loved.

Chris moved in his arms, turning until they were lying side by side, staring up into a night sky alight with pinpoints of light from distant stars. Chris yawned widely, stretching his graceful body like a great cat before settling closer. Vin felt him shudder as the cool night breeze stroked across him, rapidly cooling the sweat clinging to their flesh. He grinned as Chris squirmed around until he could reach the blankets left, purposefully, near to hand and then both men relaxed under the warm blankets, content to lie in silence within each other's arms.

They didn't dare fall asleep though Vin could feel the heaviness in his limbs and in the legs and arms lying across his own. But all too soon the moon rose above the horizon, casting its silvery light across the landscape and calling an end to this most precious interlude.

With a deep sigh, they cleaned up before pulling on their clothing, and with one final glance back towards the magical place where they had lain, they gathered their belongings and left the ledge. As they rode away, heading back towards the town, Vin held a silent hope that, next time, they would spend more than just a quiet interlude in each other's arms.

****

His dreams had been sweet, filled with Vin's passion-darkened blue eyes gazing down on him, his strong body straddling him and possessing him deeply. He dreamed of the sweet taste of Vin's lips; the power of the strokes as Vin buried himself deep inside him, and heard the howl of pleasure as Vin found his release. His fingers tingled with the memory of holding Vin, of eliciting a gasp of pleasure from Vin as he played with the tight bud of a rose-brown nipple. But the most wonderful aspect of his dream was that he had been reliving a reality. He had writhed upon Vin's hard shaft, had moaned as Vin bit into his throat, leaving his mark of possession, and he *had* reached the stars that twinkled above their heads as Vin's agile fingers brought him to the ultimate pleasure.

He had slept well even though he had slept alone, for Vin had been with him in his dreams, holding him, soothing him, and loving him. Part of him wondered if Vin had slept just as well, whether he had wrapped his arms around his pillow and dreamed it was his lover in his arms just as Chris had.

Chris snorted softly to himself at his romantic notions and he sipped at the strong coffee. The sun had risen barely two hours earlier, and the town was still relatively quiet with just the occasional rumble of a wagon or the muted sound of a horse's hooves on the dusty ground. Once in a while he would hear a voice raised as someone bid 'good day' to another but, otherwise, it was as silent as a ghost town. Which suited Chris's mood just perfectly, and he silently wished that the whole day would remain that way.

As if to scorn his wishes, Chris felt a presence behind him and sighed softly. None of them had expected to see anyone from Eagle Bend for a few more hours but it seemed that the good citizens of that town were very early risers.

"Excuse me. Why you protecting that darkie?"

Chris half turned to Sheriff Stains. "You ever heard of something called a fair trial?"

"My family pulled up roots in Pennsylvania. We spent every dime we had on a plantation in South Carolina. My father, my brothers died in the war. I come back home to find scallywags and free Negroes had stole my land. Where's my fair trial?"

Chris listened in stunned amazement that Stains might actually believe that he cared less about him. Perhaps if Stains had made even the slightest effort to help him find the murderers of his family back when they were killed, or later when he was hunting down Cletus Fowler then maybe, *just* maybe, he would have been more sympathetic to the man's plight. But the truth was, Stains' idea of being sheriff meant sitting on his fat ass and letting the local cattle barons run the town. He wanted no real part of law-keeping, preferring to let the cattle barons deal with their own errant men while he got himself liquored up in the saloon.

When Sarah and Adam were murdered, Stains had made it pretty clear that he didn't want to be involved, as the Larabees were nobodies where he was concerned. Only the unfortunate David Nichols had made any attempt to show neighborly distress over the horrific incident -- and he had paid for his kindness with a bullet from Hank Connolly, leading to a terrible vendetta from Nichol's grief-stricken mother.

But Chris wasn't just some two-bit horse rancher with a small holding anymore, and this was not Eagle Bend.

"Sheriff Stains," Chris put down his coffee and stood up, "I don't give a damn about your past. You're in our town now."

They stared each other down, looking for weaknesses in the other's eye that could be exploited, and Chris saw realization creep into Stains as he recognized his own error in Orin in refusing to give aid all those years back. His eyes hardened, acknowledging the intervening years that had turned the horse rancher into a formidable gunfighter.

"I heard you're fast."

"I heard that, too." Chris gave him a contemptuous grin as he responded, finally seeing some begrudging respect from the sheriff as Stains called him out.

Not so long ago, he would have accepted that challenge, knowing he could beat Stains to the draw, and wanting to have some small retribution for the lack of support that allowed the killers of his family to get away with their crime. But now, Chris could see Stains for what he was, a petty man filled with his own sense of self-importance who wouldn't have accomplished anything even if he had investigated the murders. He was little more than a puppet, and he wasn't worth the time or bullet needed to take his miserable life.

Chris saw the man's tightly clenched jaw tick, his eyes becoming even colder but Stains knew the truth, that he was no match for Chris Larabee with a gun. Stains turned away and left Chris with a taste of triumph to go with the remainder of his coffee.

The morning passed by swiftly and, all too soon, Travis called upon him to provide protection at the Grain Exchange where the trial would be held. He stood to one side of the entrance, grinning as his lover took the other side. Vin held his gaze for a moment, his blue eyes reflecting his silent joy at the pleasure they had shared the previous evening. He looked relaxed, leaning back against the wall with his mare's leg cradled comfortably in his hands. A lazy smile played about his firm lips, deepening the bow in the upper and softening the squareness of his jawline.

Perhaps he had not been the only one with good dreams last night.

Chris flicked his attention away as he saw Stains approaching with a dozen or more citizens of Eagle Bend.

"What's this?" Stains indicated towards the table in front of Chris, which was piled high with gun belts and their lethal weapons.

"Judge doesn't allow any firearms in court."

"Well, if you're going to wear them, I'm going to wear them."

Chris didn't bother to point out that he wasn't in court, knowing it would make little difference to the man. With a wide grin that merely served to anger Stains even more, he unstrapped his gun belt, rolled it up and placed it onto the pile where he'd be able to reach it easily enough if needs be. From the corner of his eye he saw Vin grinning as Stains conceded to Travis's requirement and dropped his gun belt onto the table. Mumbles from disgruntled men followed as the rest of the Eagle Bend citizens did likewise before filing into the crowded courtroom.

The street beyond seemed devoid of life so Chris motioned his head towards the court. Vin dropped his mare's leg next to Chris's black, silver-studded gun belt before following him in, and they found a viewing place near the back of the room, a little way to the left and behind the table where Obediah sat in silence between Nathan and Josiah.

"The United States Territorial Circuit Court is now in session in the matter of the People vs. Obediah Jackson. How does the defendant plead?"

Josiah stood up. "Not guilty, your Honor."

****

Vin listened to the opening statement from the prosecutor hired by the people of Eagle Bend. His mouth drawing into a tight line at the eloquent way Lightfoot laid down the charges against Nathan's father. Lightfoot's words stirred the blood lust of the gathered crowd, eliciting cheers and applause from the citizens of Eagle Bend, and from a few others besides. Vin licked his lips impatiently as he watched Lightfoot take his seat, waiting for Josiah to come out with something of equal passion that would set Obediah on the path towards freedom.

"A, uhh... a great Cherokee shaman once said to me... to cross a mountain... you must first walk up to it. I think that explains what we are all doing here today."

Vin frowned at his words, knowing that they might be too cryptic for the predominately white gathering. He spoke softly, more to himself, "Come on, Josiah, get good."

However, it didn't get any better when Josiah cross-examined the three witnesses, especially when the third, and final, witness smarted off at the mouth, making fun of Josiah at Obediah's expense. The crowd laughed and Vin looked down to find even Chris amused by the man's words. He sent Chris a sharp look but he couldn't blame anyone for seeing the funny side of it. However, it wouldn't do Obediah -- or Nathan -- any good to see people mocking their defender. Lightfoot took full advantage to push forward his views, playing to the crowd and giving them what they wanted to hear

"I don't know about you, but I sure don't need no eyewitness to make sense of this. Obediah Jackson is a murderer!"

Although Travis said his piece, the words, once spoken, could not be unsaid and Vin could see many of the jury nodding their heads in agreement. The crowd cheered when Lightfoot sat back down triumphantly and, with dismay, Vin realized that all that stood between Obediah Jackson and the hangman's noose was his own word against the honeyed words of Lightfoot and those few witnesses from Eagle Bend. He felt an icy hand clutching at his heart, seeing himself in Obediah's place against the people of Tascosa. Jess Kincaid had been an upstanding member of their community -- like Jonah Catchings -- and he... well... he had been a no-account, buckskin-clad, long-haired bounty hunter of dubious heritage despite his deep blue eyes. And here was Obediah, set apart from the angry citizens of Eagle Bend as much by the color of his skin as by his supposed crime. What chance did either of them have?

He watched as Obediah took the stand, heart beating faster in silent hope that Obediah could find the right words to negate the charges laid against him. His own plight filled him once more, and Vin recalled that terrible moment when he arrived at the sheriff's office in Tascosa to meet the accusations of the people as they recognized the body of Jess Kincaid. Perhaps if he hadn't been a bounty hunter seeking his reward then they might have believed him when he said that he'd found the man already dead... but they wanted to believe the worst of him. He was scum in their eyes; dirty, unshaven, long-haired, uneducated, half-savage scum that didn't deserve to be living and breathing the same clean air as the rest of them. It didn't matter none that Kincaid had been plugged with a six-shooter, and that he carried only his mare's leg and a Winchester at that time. And it didn't matter none that a man fitting Eli Joe's description had been seen riding out towards Kincaid's ranch only an hour before. They wanted someone to hold responsible for the murder, they wanted someone to hang for it, and Vin knew that they didn't care less about the truth. They fitted him to the crime and sentenced him without judge or jury, and he'd escaped the noose only by the skin of his teeth.

He rubbed his neck, remembering the feel of the rope as it lay on his shoulders. Luck had been with him that day; a freak fire at the saloon drawing attention away from him long enough for him to make his escape. Then, when he'd found the noose around his neck a second time, Chris Larabee had come to his rescue.

Vin closed his eyes and made a silent prayer to whatever deity had been watching over him, hoping that particular god would push a little protection Obediah's way too.

"I'd like to thank you, Mr. Judge, for giving me my day in court."

Years of slavery had instilled subservience into the old man, and he issued his platitudes to those who had done their best to see that he had even the slightest chance of a fair trial. Vin bit into his lower lip and shook his head as he thanked Josiah and the others who had stood by him.

"I'll tell you the truth now. I followed Mr. Catchings behind the feed lot just like they said. And then... beat him to death with my bare hands."

The crowd went wild but Vin could hear nothing as he reeled from the shock of hearing those words. He'd always been a good judge of men. He'd been the only one to believe in Chanu's innocence following the murder of Claire Mosely, and he would never have believed that Obediah Jackson could have killed a man with his bare hands if he had not heard the words fall from his lips.

Vin felt Chris's hand lay on his arm, and he turned his head, falling deep in the caring green eyes. Part of him wondered at how transparent he must be to Chris even as he fought to regain his equilibrium. He could hear the Judge calling for order, banging that gavel over and over, and he found his strength in the green gaze, focusing on the caring eyes as the Judge's next words penetrated the fog of denial surrounding him.

"You freely admit that you killed this man?"

"Yes, sir. But this is my day in court and I aim to finish." Vin listened as the tale unfolded, finding his strength in the firm grip that still, covertly, had a hold of his arm. "I would've killed Mr. Catchings then, but me and the children was loaded on a wagon in chains that same day and sold to Alabama. It took a lot of spirit out of me, and I hope my son understands why now."

Vin glanced across at Nathan, seeing the horror and the shame mingling freely across the expressive face. He looked across at Chris, and saw the same sorrow reflected in the smoky green eyes. The Judge called a recess for one hour and Chris rose, gracefully, moving forward to be at hand when they escorted Obediah back to the jail. However, no one was making any moves to form a lynching party. They had heard the truth from Obediah's mouth and all that remained was to hear the Judge pass sentence. Vin followed the slow moving procession back to the jail house, then waited outside for Chris to return.

"What are we gonna do?"

"About Obediah Jackson?"

Vin nodded his head.

"There ain't nothing we can do." The green eyes held him captive, pinning him in place as Chris went on. "This ain't like Tascosa, Vin. We both know you're innocent. He's admitted his guilt... and he got his fair trial."

"Don't deserve to hang for killing that man."

"Maybe not, but that has to be up to the Judge to decide."

"One hour... an'd then he's got but one choice... to sentence him to a hanging."

Chris lowered his head, sighing, and then he turned away, heading back towards the saloon, and Vin followed. They sat down near the back and Chris poured them both a shot of whiskey. It burned as it slid down their parched throats, and Vin grimaced as it landed heavily in his empty belly. It must have hit Chris the same way for, moments later he was asking Inez if she had any of that fried chicken left from midday. Within ten minutes there was food on the table and Vin tucked in, having not realized how hungry he was until the aroma filled the air around them. They reduced the plate to a pile of bones quickly, licking greasy fingers before tossing back another shot of whiskey. And then it was time to go back to the Grain Exchange to hear the sentence passed on Obediah Jackson.

"Mr. Jackson has confessed his guilt in open court. The jury is dismissed."

Lightfoot made his case for the Judge to pass the severest sentence -- a life for a life. The crowd applauded him, and even Vin had to admit that he might have been swayed by his words had his loyalties not lain with Nathan Jackson.

"Mr. Sanchez, do you have anything to say?"

"Yes, I do, your Honor. Just for a moment I'd like you to try on Obediah's boots. A man walks into your house. Takes your wife... and he rapes her. And you're powerless to stop him. He rapes your wife. And then he threatens to take your 7-year-old child away from you. And you are powerless to stop him. Imagine what that must be like having to stand there and watch this grievous harm be done to your loved ones. And you're powerless to stop it."

Vin felt the raw power of Josiah's words reaching into him, and he saw the power of those words reaching into the hearts of others present, including the man standing by his side.

"I beg you to search your heart and do what is right and just. Let Obediah Jackson live."

The crowd applauded and Vin spoke softly in pride of the rousing speech.

"Josiah, you silver-tongued devil."

Beside him, Chris lent his own non-verbal support as he joined in on the applause. Once more the courtroom was in an uproar, forcing Travis to order another recess until there was order but this time, no one moved from the makeshift courtroom, knowing that the end was near. Vin watched as Mary Travis followed her father-in-law from the court but soon after, the Judge returned.

They all waited in silence but Vin could feel the pulse of the room as every man and woman silently screamed their own Orin as if willing Travis to hear their words.

"I feel great sympathy for this man. However, I'm one of the bearers of the law to this territory, so I have no choice. Obediah Jackson, you are guilty of murder by your own admission. You are hereby sentenced to hang for your crime."

Vin gasped; unable to comprehend how the Judge could order Obediah to hang after hearing Josiah's words of defense. Around him some of the crowd was cheering, eager to slake their blood lust legally this time, and Vin turned to search Chris's face. He saw the closed expression that very few could read, and knew that Chris was feeling the same shock as their silent hopes for Obediah's reprieve faded. In his mind, Vin started making plans, wanting to get away from the town as far and as fast as he could. He did not want to be any part of this travesty of so-called justice, where a man could be hung for being forced to wait twenty or more years to see justice for his dead wife and for his enslaved children.

And what of Chris? What if he found the person responsible for paying Cletus Fowler to burn his family alive? Would Travis sentence Chris to be hanged if he made that man pay for Sarah and Adam's deaths with his life?

Travis's next words confused him and the rest of the court for several moments, and then those calling for blood realized that they'd been cheated out of a hanging. But Chris was already on his feet and, without conscious thought, Vin found he was right behind him as they pushed through the crowd to where Obediah Jackson sat stunned between Josiah and Nathan. They bundled Obediah towards the door and Vin heard Chris give an order to Nathan as they crossed the threshold.

"Nathan, you get your father out of sight."

Chris grabbed his gun belt from the pile on the table, quickly strapping it on and tying it down with the speed and precision of long familiarity. Meantime, Stains was stirring up the crowd of angry men he'd brought with him from Eagle Bend even as he grabbed his own gun.

"You heard the judge. Go home." Chris raised his soft voice above the shouts of the crowd, but no one paid him any mind, being too caught up in their own desire to see frontier justice meted out on the main street of the town.

When Stains realized that someone had taken the bullets out of his gun, he turned back to Chris Larabee in anger, issuing his challenge. Slowly they all stepped out onto the dusty street.

"Sure is easy to look tough when you have loaded weapons and we don't. I guess you men wouldn't be interested in a fair fight, would you?"

"Oh, I think we can manage a fair fight. What do you say, boys?" Chris looked around to see if the others agreed, taking his eyes off Stains as Buck gave his agreeable answer... and Chris went down hard as Stains took advantage of the moment to get in the first punch.

Vin had no time to rush to his aid for, seconds later he was dodging punches aimed at him by some of Stains' men. Two men grabbed at his arms, leaving him defenseless, but still he sought Chris, seeing his lover try to roll with the vicious kicks Stains aimed at his unprotected ribs and stomach, and grimacing as at least one connected hard. Vin rode the punch to his gut, then shoved back hard, overbalancing his captors enough to shake free. Ever aware of his lover, Vin sighed in relief when he saw Chris was back on his feet and struggling with Stains. Vin sent a powerful right fist into one man's face and then caught sight of Nathan leaping at Stains, and knocking him away from Chris.

The report of a rifle echoed through the air, and every man fell still, eyes darting around seeking the source until Obediah's voice rang out from above, "Leave my boy alone."

Every eye fell on Sheriff Stains and the derringer he had pulled and aimed directly into Nathan's face. Vin glanced across and sighed in relief when he saw Chris pushing away from the wagon where he'd been standing, fortunately looking none the worse for the street brawl. He grinned as Chris spoke out.

"Justice has been done here today. Now go home."

"Come on, get out of here." Vin dragged one from the ground and gave him a shove. "Get on your horses."

He whooped in joy as the Eagle Bend boys stumbled off towards their horses, still exhilarated from the fight, and pleased that the town would be free of trouble tonight. He didn't care that those boys had a long ride home with only a few hours left of daylight. That was their problem, and not his.

From the corner of his eye he saw the Judge standing on the boardwalk, saw him shaking his head in exasperation before he turned and walked away. Nathan was walking back up the stairs to where his father stood, the rifle lowered and hanging loose in his tired hands. Buck, Ezra, Josiah and JD were laughing and back-slapping as they made their way towards the saloon. Vin followed them, but on reaching the boardwalk outside of the saloon, he waited for Chris, and then he felt an icy chill race down his spine as he took in Chris's expression.

The green eyes were not shining brightly as with the others, and the generous lips were not curled into a grin of satisfaction from a fight well fought. Instead, he looked a little troubled, and hesitant, with a face clouded in doubt.

Vin let his thoughts replay those last few minutes in the street; and he recalled the small nod of gratitude to Nathan. Yes... it was gratitude rather than concern, and Vin realized that Chris had not been checking to make certain that Nathan was fine after his fight with Stains... he'd been thanking him for something.

But what?

Nathan had jumped Stains, and had thrown the man away from Chris. Had Chris been in trouble? Had Stains pulled that little gun of his on Chris with the intention of using it? Damn, they should have patted all them boys down before letting them into the court. How many others had little guns tucked up their sleeve like Ezra, or in small holsters hidden out of sight? How many had sharp knives tucked into boot sheaths like Eli Joe that they could've pulled on any one of them during this brawl?

"You okay, Cowboy?"

"Yeah." Chris slapped him on the shoulder, dredging up a small smile of reassurance, but Vin wasn't convinced. He followed Chris into the saloon and they joined the others, accepting glasses filled with whiskey and toasting the successful conclusion of another fight.

****

The light from Nathan's small room was still shining but Chris knew Nathan had a lot of years to catch up on with his father, and not a lot of time left to do it in. The Judge had confided in him his reasons for delaying Obediah's hanging, but even if he hadn't, the bright spots of blood on Obediah's lips after a bout of coughing had told him the whole story.

Chris had gone up there earlier, just to ensure that all was okay. After all, the Judge had entrusted him with custody of Obediah, but it seemed to him that Obediah looked even more fragile now than he had the day before. It occurred to Chris that, just maybe, Obediah had been holding out with the last of his strength until he'd had his day in court, and his chance to release the heavy burden that he'd held for all these years.

Chris thought about his own search for justice. Would he have to wait that long to put his own ghosts to rest? And had it been worth it to Obediah? Part of him wanted to ask that question... wanted to know if beating Jonah Catchings to death had taken away his lifetime of rage and pain, or if it had been a hollow victory. Obediah's final words from the courtroom filled his mind, answering that question.

"I reckon I'll find out soon enough if God holds me to Orin. But I'm glad I did it."

Chris wondered if he would feel the same way should he ever have the chance to mete out justice to the man who had paid another to murder a defenseless woman and child in such a horrific way; his wife and child.

"He's dying, ain't he? Got consumption."

Chris turned and found Vin leaning up against the wall close by, a little shocked that he had been so deep in thought that he hadn't heard or even sensed Vin's approach. He gave a quick nod.

"How long you figure he's got?"

"A week, maybe two... maybe less. Who knows."

The silence stretched between them as Vin accepted his words, and then he spoke again, softly but with a voice filled with determination.

"What happened, Chris?"

Chris tilted his head, about to deny that anything untoward had happened but he saw the steel in Vin's eyes and knew he would not be appeased until he had the truth.

"He got hold of my gun. Snatched it right from my holster while we were fighting. Had both hands around it, but he was the stronger man, finger on the trigger and had it aimed at my face."

"And Nathan?"

"Must've seen."

Vin nodded, his eyes softening as he accepted the terrifying truth of how close Chris had come to being killed by a bullet from his own gun. All Chris could do was relive that moment as he stared down into the wrong end of his own gun, and realized that he didn't want to die... not just yet.

"He saved my life today."

Vin snorted. "Hell, Chris, ain't that what we're all doing for each other every day? Watching each other's backs and keeping death at arm's length?"

Chris frowned, realizing that he'd never truly seen it that way before except with Vin and Buck. He'd always been too wrapped up in protecting all of these men who had become such close friends to realize that they were all doing the same in return. They were looking out for him, willing to take a knife or a bullet to protect him, just as he was willing to do the same for them. It was a humbling thought, and a troubling thought too as it placed an even greater weight of responsibility upon his shoulders.

Vin chuckled, his soft laugh enfolding him Chris in a warmth that took the chill from his soul.

"Yeah. It's a heavy burden, Larabee, but you gotta admit, it's one worth carrying."

Chris looked into the wise and knowing eyes staring out from the younger man's face and he felt some of that weight lift.

"You been listening to Josiah again? He'll have you preaching in his church next."

Vin gave a wide grin, "hell, Larabee, you ain't the only one says no more than three words in a day... though I figure we both used up a week's worth today alone."

Chris laughed gently, shaking his head in resignation, "Then I figure we need less talk and more action."

Vin gazed up into the moonlit sky, and Chris felt a sudden desire to see Vin naked beneath its silvery rays. When Vin looked back, Chris could see a reflection of his own thoughts in the darkening eyes.

"Still got a heap of kindling up on that ledge..."

Chris grinned his response, and then he watched as Vin turned away, eyes following the lithe, buckskin-clad figure as Vin headed for his horse. He shook his head as he marveled at how fortunate he had been the day he rode into this town. And with a silent hope that Vin was right -- that this burden was worth the carrying -- he headed for his own horse, eager to share a few more hours with his wise and gentle lover.

THE END


End file.
